


Future uncertain.

by alcoholinspired



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:59:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcoholinspired/pseuds/alcoholinspired
Summary: Tumblr prompt:The pain in the mark becomes unbearable no matter what the Inquisitor does. Dorian finds him crying on the floor of his room, cradling his arm as it flashes and sparks green. Dorian doesn't want to think about how it is killing him.





	Future uncertain.

The Inquisitor wasn't the same man anymore, he wasn't a hero, he wasn't himself anymore, nor his amatus. When they met, Robert somehow found a way to keep his head up and still hopeful, devout to a point Dorian couldn't imagine possible, that the Inquisition was going to win, fix a world near end; he wondered if that young man who by some weird sense of humour was the head of the also young Inquisition was some kind of trial or a joke, he wondered how their fates could literally be in the hands of someone that age; but with the passing time he realized the Inquisitor had way more to him than he would let on, it was like he would be able to play the Game for his entire life. Robert was there for all that rag tag group of weird people the inner circle of the Inquisition was, lifting their moods in hardship, solving many petty problems in the face of a giant hole spilling demons every minute, solving his problems, even contradicting Dorian's pleas to not to. But he did it, he contradicted him and his first assumptions in many ways that left him disarmed and vulnerable for the first time, he conquered his path to Dorian as he did with the hearts of the people that followed the Inquisition, and now he cared for someone in a way he never did for his past affairs.

But the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, his amatus, wasn't the same man as before. Were he would cheerily check his friends, he would pass right away, not talking to anyone unless inevitably necessary; where he would joke about something silly one of them did or said, he remained silent; where he would face the many petty squabbles between factions and the problems the Inquisition had with an upstanding mood, trying to keep his advisors from infights, he now faced those problems with irritation and frustration, angrily spouting curses and orders; they were concerned, sure, as much as everyone in the inner circle, but they were much more afraid than concerned, as the others.

No, not as much in fact, there wasn't a single soul that was as much concerned and afraid as Dorian was, he was terrified. Because no one else had Robert as he had, for the others he was the Inquisitor, arguably a friend everyone want a share of, for most he was an idol, but for him, he was his amatus, the one to flourish the feels he thought were silly an juvenile. Yes it was petty, it was selfish, but it was the truth, no one else saw him at his truly worst those times, no one saw how the pain was transforming a gentle and good humored man into a rude and bitter one. No one was near Robert when the last thing he could see was kindness.

It was the anchor. The bright green mark on his hand was causing this, the very thing that he was using to save them all was now slowly killing him. The cursed thing was spreading, and it was unmerciful; each time the marked crawled a bit more his arm, the same that held him and were kissed in return, he would scream long and loud in pain, or when he couldn't because some damned Chantry brother or sister was bothering him with the unending wave of problems, he would remain silent, looking with a wide open glassy look down the floor, sweating and forcefully holding the shake inside. That thing was taking away before his own eyes his amatus, it was consuming him in pain until there was nothing left.

And every minute became a nightmare where he didn't know what would be of the next day, his heart was heavy and his blood burned as if poisoned by a snake. Dorian found himself tirelessly researching something that could slow down that cursed thing, something that could ease the pain and not kill Robert, he got Vivienne to help him, but no talent the two mages possessed was helping, the only thing it was doing was getting Dorian angry and increasingly frustrated, his own sense of humor was dwindling. The first time he finds someone to love and now is watching him die, this could only be a joke, a very bad joke on him.

It was night now, most of the companions where drinking or doing their deeds, he wanted to see his amatus, how he was, Dorian needed to look at him, talk to him, hold him, so he could know Robert was still there and was still his. He went to the Inquisitor's quarters, holding his breath before opening the door, trying to shove the thoughts fear painted on his mind.  
  
He knocked on the door, no response.

"Amatus? Are you inside?"

Again, no answer. He sighted, maybe he wasn't in there, maybe he went away, but where would he go? Would he roam aimlessly?

He knocked again, but instead of silence, or an answer, a blunt noise, something fell and something broke. Dorian got startled, his eyes widened and his chest constricted; without delay he opened the door to the Inquisitor's room.

And he was there, kneeled on the floor near the bed, holding his arm by the elbow, twitching back and forth, the hand with the anchor splayed, the green mark on him flashing furiously, not contained to his hand anymore, it was spreading, crawling it's way upon his arm; bright green tendrils burning their way up. Robert was mumbling incoherent things, his voice full of pain, trembling with the muffled cry he tried in vain to hide, but couldn't; he was crying in pain, doing his best to hide, but the pain was too much, too cruel, the uncertainty of what would become of him dreadful.

"Robert!"

Dorian shouted, he ran to his lover shoving the door shut behind him, kneeling before him, trying to aid, he held him by the shoulders trying to look eye to eye. There wasn't much to think, or rather he couldn't put his brain to do something rational right at that point, not when he looked to his amatus on the floor with that mark spreading like a disease, taking over inch by inch of the one man he loved.

Robert ignored his attempts, instead he curved himself more, almost touching the floor with his head, his voice went out hectic by the gasps and the complete absence of them, it was unimaginable, it was shameful, each tear rolling down his face, each supressed cry were as humiliating as the mark was painful, he would rather have to go through this alone were no one could see him falling apart then having a witness, especially if the witness was his beloved Dorian.

"Robert, Robert, I'm here, Dorian, I'm here for you, I'll help... Somehow." Dorian knew he couldn't help, but that was not more rational thinking.

The Inquisitor was trembling, all his attempts to suppress the tears and the cries were pointless, he felt his blood burn poisoned, he couldn't hear much beside his own pain and Dorian's voice, but this last one was like a faraway call. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't, not with all those people not too far from him, they would listen, they would know, he couldn't let it, so he gave up the fight with the tears and let them flow freely.

"Amatus I'm here, can you listen? Focus on me... Please." He held the other shoulders strongly trying to pull him up, but the man was too resistant.

"Don't do this with me, let me help you! Why didn't you call me?!" If Robert wasn't going up, he went down, holding his arm firmly, with his head on the other's nape.

It was some moments until the Inquisitor stopped mumbling incoherent things and catch his breath to answer Dorian, but he did so with the remaining strengh he had.

"I... I don't know... don't know how long..."

"No stop it, don't even say it, you're not going to let me down like that. Don't you dare!"

"The anchor... it is growing... it is taking over..."

"We'll find a way, we're trying, don't give up!"

He finally managed to get the Inquisitor to raise, back to an erect position and they finally looked eye to eye, Dorian's eye were transparent to all the horror and fear he was feeling, but Robert's ones were glassy, empty, as if the pain had blinded him, he wasn't looking to Dorian, he was looking through. The tears still flowed and his face was pale, the sweat made the hair stick to his forehead, the cry surrounded the eyes with a red tint, the lips, warm, of a naturally healthy color were pale and cold, parted catching his breath slowly. Dorian released his arms and cupped his face, making it still, drying the sweat with his hands and setting his hair aside. It was the Inquisitor who broke the silence with a low voice:

"This mark is going to kill me."

Dorian swallowed hard, it was a feasible possibility, he truly didn't know how to make that cursed thing stop, not with all his studies neither Vivienne's were getting them somewhere, he was useless, he was watching his Robert being taken away, but he didn't want to accept that, he couldn't.

"Don't say it, don't, you can't. Imagine all those people running aimlessly like roaches if you don't guide them."

He tried to lift the humour, even if it felt hollow, it was the only way he knew how to cope with that without resorting to alcohol. An empty smile painted on his face, and the Inquisitor himself pictured the scene and his face outlined a weak smile. Robert felt cold, weak, he shuddered and lowed his head again, Dorian still held his head and guided him to his chest, to which he obliged without resistance.

He felt Robert's breath on his neck, it was warm, it was good, like the many times he felt it when they were together; he unbuttoned his lover clothes so he could rest comfortable. He stood sit on the floor, caressing his amatus hair with a hand while another rested on the bare chest, going up and down with the progressively slow ebb and flow of it; the left arm rested on his belly, green tendrils sparkling as if they burned inside. Dorian felt the strength from Robert vanning, he was too exhausted.

"Dorian?"

"Yes?"

"Being foolish with you was the happiest thing I did."

"Stop saying those things, doom and gloom don't fit you well, besides there are many more ways I planned we can be foolish."

He felt the lips on his neck twist into a smile and kiss his skin. There was no more reply from Robert, he fell asleep or passed away, he couldn't be sure, either way he was now resting, he hoped, the only thing he could do now was embrace him, unsure about the future. Dorian held Robert tightly, hiding his face on the messy hair of his head, he closed his eyes because if he let them open he would keep staring that thing, his mind would restart wandering in circles trying to find a solution, but he couldn't do it now, he didn't want, instead he closed his eyes and kept his mind in the happy moments they shared, reviving them because he didn't know what the future has in store.


End file.
